


the world could be ours

by skyestiel



Series: this vld canon could use a little more... [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Paladin Lance (Voltron), Fix-It of Sorts, I'm so glad that's a tag, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 05, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Some angst but mostly fluff, and ofc so has lance, attempted humor, because i need "keith and lance back to back" to be a reality, black paladin lance/red paladin keith 2k18, but really, keith has fallen even more in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyestiel/pseuds/skyestiel
Summary: “I haven’t spoken with any of you, one-on-one, in ages,” Keith admits softly. At this point, he isn't sure whether he's indulging Lance orhimself.“At least that’s what it feels like.”Lance grins. Brilliant and radiant, like maybe he could care for this broken boy after all. “Then come back to us.”or: Keith's resolve is crumbling, and Voltron may be where he belongs after all.





	the world could be ours

**Author's Note:**

> what is UP, guys, it's ya girl, skye!!! yes, it's been ages since i've written anything... senior year of college has been kicking my ass. but i had time for this quick fic. i've misssed my lovely space kids. they deserve a sweet and heartwrenching reunion!! i easily could've made this 10k+ words with kissing and hugging. but this felt... real to me? and slightly self-indulgent because i love the idea of keith coming back as the red paladin and lance taking over as the black paladin.
> 
> anyway, i hope everyone enjoys!!! this was way too much fun (and painful) to write. also the title is from "rewrite the stars," from "the greatest showman." [give it a listen!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdjR2lvIfJ4)

Keith has forgotten how to breathe.

 

The sight quite literally steals the air from his lungs. His subconscious tumbles and turns numbers around inside his head. One plus one is suddenly six, the square root of four no longer exists. Because, really, when did this happen? How did he miss this? How was he not here to watch…  _ this  _ come to life?

 

“Pretty neat, huh?” Lance brandishes the sword proudly over his head. The lights of the training room glint off the blade, and, holy shit, it really  _ is  _ a sword.

 

Keith has never experienced this feeling before. Like the proverbial cat caught his tongue, like the universe robbed him of the ability to speak. All he can do is stand there, staring. His blade suit clings to every inch of his skin and, for the first time, Keith is uncomfortable wearing it. 

 

“Uh—” Keith chokes on a comment he knows would come out sounding wrong. “Yeah, it's. Wow.”

 

“'Wow,’ he says.” Lance snorts. “Never thought I'd hear you say that about anything involving yours truly.”

 

He saunters over with the sword in hand, simpering _.  _ But there's nothing snide or smug about it. This Lance is excited, maybe even proud of himself. Genuinely proud. This Lance is more commanding, more confident, than the Lance that Keith remembers. 

 

“You know what Allura said? She said this is an Altean broadsword. And that Alfor used one just like it!” Lance is grinning, captivating as the Sun, and it's contagious. “Can you believe it?  _ Alfor _ . Her dad. The greatest Red Paladin ever.”

 

Keith blinks, Lance blinks. And just like that, realization dawns on Lance's now horrified face. 

 

“I mean! Not that you weren't an awesome Red Paladin. Or aren't, I guess, because you're still her pilot. Her real pilot, not me. It's not like you're not a Paladin anymore because, duh, of course  _ you are— _ ”

 

Laughter bubbles up inside Keith. Gradually building like an earthquake trembling beneath his skin. He can't stop it. Not that he wants to, honestly. When's the last time he laughed like this? Shook with the force of it? _ The last time you hung out with Lance,  _ Keith's brain helpfully supplies. 

 

“Lance,” he chuckles with an exasperated shake of his head. “It's okay. Also… you're as much Red's pilot as I am. She's happy to have you.” 

 

The sword clatters to the ground. 

 

Lance is downright frantic. He drops to his knees, grappling for his dropped weapon. If Keith weren't about to explode into a million little pieces, he might've teased Lance for it. But, oh God, why did he say that? 

 

Red purrs contently in Keith's ear.  _ Because it's true _ , that sound says. He hopes, more than anything, he's the only Red Paladin to hear it.

 

“I, uh. I meant to do that,” Lance stammers as he climbs back to his feet. When he stands, the blush coloring his cheeks is unmistakable. Keith feels his own cheeks burning and, really, they must look like quite the pair. Flushed skin and quaking voices. 

 

“Clearly you need more practice with that.”

 

Lance's eyes bug out of his skull. “What?”

 

“The  _ broadsword _ .” Keith emphasizes the word, enjoying the taste it leaves in his mouth.  _ This is just a normal visit,  _ he reminds himself. “A trained swordsman wouldn't drop it like that.”

 

“For your information, Allura's been training me! Besides, you're telling me you've never dropped your sword before? Dirty liar— you totally have!”

 

“Hm, maybe once or twice.”

 

“It's gotta be more than that.” Lance gestures at the holster around Keith's waist. Where his blade sits snugly against his hip. “You're telling me it's never fallen out during battle? Or been knocked out of your hand when Kolivan’s kicking you around the Blade of Marmora training room?”

 

Keith bristles. “He doesn't 'kick me around.’”

 

“Sure, sure.” Lance dances just out of reach. “But I'm sure you don't always beat whoever your sparring partner is.”

 

“Well, I'm sure Shiro would give you a run for your money if you two sparred,” Keith blurts smugly.

 

But Lance's reaction… is wholly unexpected.

 

He shrinks into himself, tucking the sword against his chest. The smile capable of tearing the world to pieces, capable of bringing even the most wicked Galra general to their knees, is gone. Replaced with something forced, barely concealing a frown. 

 

“Yeah. Yeah, you're not wrong.” Lance peers down at the bayard in his hand. “He would destroy me.”

 

Something’s wrong. Keith expected the bantering to continue. Switch gears, possibly, like turning to insults specifically aimed at his hair and the horror of mullets. But Lance goes uncharacteristically quiet. 

 

“Hey, is something up?” Keith takes a careful step closer. The mood shifted so drastically, and Keith needs to know why.  _ Has  _ to. “I’m sorry, you know I was just kidding; Shiro isn’t the type for sword fights anyway.”

 

Lance drops his gaze to the floor. “Oh, I know. That’s not… That’s not it.”

 

“Then what is it?” 

 

“He’s just— you wouldn’t understand,” Lance scoffs. “You haven’t seen it.”

 

_ Huh?  _ “Seen what? Shiro?” 

 

“No, quiznak, you haven’t seen  _ this  _ Shiro!” Lance erupts right before Keith’s very own eyes. His bayard returns to its original, harmless form. “He’s different, okay? He’s been weird ever since he came back to us, and… over the last couple months, it’s only gotten worse.”

 

There’s a vulnerability in Lance’s expression that shakes Keith to his core. Keith's foundations are quietly crumbling, and he wonders if Lance can hear the stone walls collapsing. Lance’s brows draw together, lips twisting into an angry curve. And, somehow, Keith knows. 

 

“What’d he do?” Keith prompts, struggling to keep his tone even. Especially when Lance turns away. “Lance, what did Shiro do?”

 

“Keith…”

 

Self-control breaks down. Keith takes a more purposeful step forward. “There’s no way… Shiro would never hurt one of us.”

 

“He didn’t technically hurt me,” Lance hesitantly explains. “But he’s yelled at me a few times. He’s not a huge fan of people rivalling his opinion. Big, bad leader is always right. You know?”

 

Keith has known leaders like that in the past, sure. Iverson could be awfully controlling and stubborn. That was mostly why Keith slugged him in the jaw, earning him his expulsion from the Galaxy Garrison. But _Shiro_ had never been that kind of leader. He handled things benevolently. A steady source of encouragement and warmth, a leader you wanted to please and protect. 

 

Not once had he yelled at Keith. 

 

“It’s just, like… he’s wanted to take some pretty risky approaches to missions recently. Allura and I try to shut him down, and oh boy. He doesn’t like it one bit.” 

 

_ Shiro isn’t Shiro _ .

 

“I get it, I do. But Shiro has always been open to everyone’s opinions, right? He seemed like he wanted the whole team to be in agreement on something before we actually did it.” Lance pauses to meet Keith’s gaze. A watery smile surfaces. “Unless he just doesn’t want  _ my  _ opinion.”

 

_ Shiro isn’t Shiro. Shiro isn’t Shiro _ . Keith swallows down the frustrated scream trapped in his throat. 

 

“Keith, I… it’s so weird. The last time we were alone, he told me he didn’t feel like himself.”

 

This is Keith’s fault— no doubt about it. When Shiro came back, Keith had been suspicious. Although he’d been happy to see him, he couldn’t help but worry. Everything felt too easy. Almost as if the Galra  _ wanted  _ the team to find Shiro. Which made absolutely no sense considering Shiro’s contribution and prowess as the Black Paladin. 

 

And a tiny voice tucked within Keith’s conscious had speculated,  _ What if this is someone— something— else? Something sinister? Something  _ Galra?

 

“He’s not himself,” Keith whispers. And then louder, again, for Lance. “Shiro isn’t himself.”

 

“Wh— Keith, c’mon. That’s crazy!” 

 

“We’ve seen some ridiculous stuff over the last few months. You can’t tell me this is out of the realm of possibility.”

 

Lance scrunches his nose, skin crinkling at the corners of his squinting eyes. It’s such an adorable quirk, and Keith hates himself immediately for thinking so. “Dude, what are you saying? Shiro’s been replaced with a meaner Shiro clone?” 

 

Nervous giggling fills the room, bubbly but broken. Keith, however, isn’t laughing. 

 

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

 

Amused wheezing turns to strained coughing and eventually silence. Lance’s face morphs into a Jackson Pollock painting come to life. Hectic splashes of emotions. “Keith, buddy, my dude. A clone?”

 

“A clone.”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Think, Haggar is still alive. And adamant about stopping Lotor from rising to power. What better way to do it? Shiro— or clone Shiro, I guess— would be the best inside man.” Keith lurches forward to grab Lance by the shoulders. “A spy!”

 

“A— spy— for— Haggar,” Lance manages as Keith gives him a couple solid shakes. 

 

“Yes! Who knows what kind of information she’s getting through him? It’s probably the easiest way for her to keep an eye on Lotor.”

 

“First of all, you’re nuts,” Lance says breathlessly once Keith ceases his shaking. “Like, well and truly lost all your quiznaking marbles. And, secondly, you’re getting way too excited about this.”

 

“I— oh.” Keith freezes. “I am?” 

 

“Yeah, dude,” Lance snickers. The light, airy sound is enough to stoke the growing fire inside Keith’s chest. “Way excited. I haven’t seen you this happy in ages.” He cocks his head to the side, studying this new, overzealous Keith. “Don’t tell me you’re happy to see me again?”

 

_ Ding, ding, dingI Bingo!  _ The alarms blare angrily inside Keith’s skull. Lance hit the nail on the head. But he’s joking, of course. There’s no question about that. Even if Keith chose this moment to lamely confess his… feelings, whatever label you want to slap on the storm trapped in his abdomen whenever Lance is around, it wouldn’t matter. Lance had never and would never care for Keith as more than a friend, a  _ comrade _ .

 

But the word choice, the fond softening of Lance’s gaze… it makes a guy wonder. 

 

As if sensing the unspoken truth behind his words, Lance awkwardly clears his throat. “We haven’t even fought yet with our fancy new swords. A real sword fight.”

 

“...You’re right.”

 

“And you haven’t tried Hunk’s latest creation. Or seen Pidge and Matt’s latest feat of nerdy, tech genius.”

 

“Also true.”

 

“Heck, we haven’t even eaten a proper  _ meal  _ together. Not since you first left,” Lance finishes weakly.

 

“I haven’t spoken with any of you, one-on-one, in ages,” Keith admits softly. At this point, he isn't sure whether he's indulging Lance or  _ himself _ . “At least that’s what it feels like.”

 

Lance grins. Brilliant and radiant, like maybe he could care for this broken boy after all. “Then come back to us.”

 

“I want to,” Keith blurts and realizes that, yes, he really does want to stay. The Blade has taught him a great deal since joining. About life and death, about strategy and the impact one simple mistake can have on a mission’s success. They even offered him the chance to reconnect with his mother.

 

But they weren't his team. They weren't Voltron. 

 

“Then stay,” Lance insists. He's practically begging, which is enough to tilt Keith's world on its axis. “We need you to pilot the Black Lion, buddy.”

 

“You must be really desperate if you're begging _ me _ to stay.” 

 

Something strange happens then. The air in the room feels charged, like it may shock Keith if he even so much as moves. Lance fixes Keith with an openly pleading look that shatters any semblance of self-control Keith has left. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, Lance had missed Keith, too.

 

“The two of us, we could save Shiro. From whatever's making him act like this.” Lance is close, closer than Keith anticipated. Oceans rage behind those wide, imploring eyes. Each inhale and exhale like a tidal pull Keith can't resist. “We saved him before, right? We can do it again.”

 

Memories of he and Lance, guiding a barely conscious Shiro out of a Garrison lab in the middle of the desert. And later memories of their teamwork. Lance at the helm of the Red Lion, a constant source of impulse control and, in a way, comfort. Knowing that no matter what Lotor threw their way, the two of them would lead the team to victory and safety. 

 

“Lance,” Keith chokes out, hoping it conveys everything he's feeling. 

 

“We… We make a good team.” A familiar smirk takes shape on Lance's lips. “Don't we?”

 

_ Always playing that card _ . Keith opens his mouth to protest, but the Red Lion clamps his jaw shut. Before he can retaliate, she's slipping thoughts into his head. Startling mental images that force a gasp from Keith's throat. In them, he's flying Red and wearing a smile wide enough to rival even Lance. While Lance— Lance is hooting and hollering like he's the happiest person alive. He soars past Keith, spinning wildly through space, gaining every star's attention, in none other than the Black Lion.

 

And when Keith answers, he's never been more sure in his life. “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

 

“Then  _ stay,”  _ Lance repeats. Firmer.  _ Like a Black Paladin should be _ .

 

Keith makes the quick decision to not tell Lance yet. A part of him— a terrifyingly  _ huge _ part of him— wants to watch Lance figure it out on his own. Sitting at the controls of the Black Lion, face completely alight with wonder when it comes to life at his touch. The sense of rightness that overcomes Keith at the thought is overwhelming. 

 

“Well…” Keith drawls, delighted by the anticipation in the curl of Lance's lopsided grin. “If I don't, who will you make fun of?”

 

Sunlight streams from every pore in Lance's skin, enveloping Keith like he's standing on one of the beaches Lance rants and raves about.

 

Because Lance— Lance shines. And this is where Keith belongs now.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AND THEY RULED THE WORLD TOGETHER LIKE THE DREAM TEAM THEY ARE!!!!! i hope yall enjoyed. thanks for reading!! hit me with those sweet sweet kudos and comments if you enjoyed. and make sure to come say hi to me on twitter/tumblr @tobiologist


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